Spilt Milk
by 96 Hubbles
Summary: Carter writes a letter describing the effects of one friend's mistake and another's decision.
1. the trouble that night

_Disclaimer: These characters are not mine, and I make no claim to them. I am also not making any money from this story or any other that I've written. (Darn the luck! I guess it's back to work as a government paper-monkey for me.)_

**Spilt Milk**

_Down in his lab, Andrew Carter hesitated and asked himself why he was doing this. Telling himself that it was a stupid idea, for a few minutes he did nothing but sit there on his stool, slowly twirling a pen in one hand. "How'd I even come up with this? It's not like he's…"_

_Suddenly he didn't want to think about why it was dumb. He just knew that he had to do it._

_----_

March 9, 194-

Dear Dad,

I hope you know why I'm writing you this letter, because I sure don't. It's not like I can mail it after all. But I guess it's because there's no one else to talk to right now. Everyone around here is feeling guilty and taking it out on one another AND I HATE IT!

Sorry Dad, but I do. I hate this whole situation. I mean, I'm trying to look on the bright side, and to not let it get me down, but it's hard. Especially when no one wants to do the same, and they get mad at you for trying. Cause Dad, it's times like this when I can't forget that this is a prison: no matter what tricks we play, we can't get around the fact that the Germans still have us locked up like animals.

Anyway Dad, I'm going to keep this letter down here, so that I can tell you the whole story. If the Germans ever do find it, well then, it means that they'll have found this place, and so by that point I'll already be in as much trouble as I could possibly be in. See, we do things here - things the Germans don't know about. Well, a few do, like our contacts, but you know what I mean. Anyway, that's what Colonel Hogan was doing last night when all this started. Maybe I better not say what, or who with, because even if the Germans found _us_, it doesn't mean they have to find everybody.

----

_He went back and erased the last three lines. It would probably be best if the Germans didn't think they had any outside contacts at all, or at least not many. He wasn't foolish enough to think that they wouldn't be suspicious, that they wouldn't try hurting people to get information even without physical evidence, but on paper it seemed more like a betrayal than he had thought it would._

_----_

Boy Dad, I tell you, this whole spy business messes with your thinking after awhile. I suppose the Colonel would be happy to know that it's FINALLY beginning to sink in, but I don't like it much to be honest. It's a real pain always having to think about every little word. And Mom always did say too many secrets and lies twists a person up inside. I know it's important, at least for right now, but I don't think it's ever going to come naturally to me either. The guys are always giving me grief for not watching what I say before I open my mouth, but I ALWAYS forget. But anyhow, the Colonel was gone last night and we got into some trouble cause he wasn't here.

At first, everything was pretty ordinary - some of the guys and I were playing poker and I remember Newkirk asking me if I wanted any cards.

"I'm thinking!" I said.

"Oh Blimey Carter, you should've told me. I'd have looked for a book to read during the wait." (Actually, it was more like "I'd 'ave looked for a book" cause that's how his accent sounds - he drops the 'h' on a lot of words - but I'm not going to write my whole letter like that.)

"Stop kidding around." The guys are always teasing me. I'm pretty resigned to it mostly, but it does get a bit old. "Give me three."

"Here you are poker face," he said.

"Aw heck, I fold."

Newkirk rolled his eyes at me. "Carter, how many times do I have to tell you - " he started to say when Lebeau groaned from my bunk.

"Oh, let him fold Newkirk. It is supposed to be after lights-out and I am sick of listening to all of you."

"So what are we supposed to do the rest of the evening? Bleeding meditate like some swami?" (Newkirk says bleeding this and bleeding that a lot - it's some kind of British cuss word I guess.)

"Jeez, have a heart Newkirk," I told him, then I looked over at Louie. "You still feeling lousy Lebeau?" I asked him. He just grumbled like a sour puss.

Kinch smiled and said, "I think we can take that as a yes." He put his cards down and went over and put his hand on Lebeau's forehead. Lebeau tried to swat it away like it was a fly that was annoying him.

"You're a little warm, but not too bad," Kinch told him.

"Oh merci, monsieur docteur," Lebeau said sarcastically, but his heart wasn't in it. I wondered if French people really say Mr. Doctor (that's what it translates out to) or if he was just teasing us again about how badly we speak French. I asked Lebeau if he wanted me to get him anything, like a glass of water or something. He didn't answer but I figured I'd get him one anyway.

"Look, are we going to play or what?" Newkirk asked.

"Or what," Kinch said, nodding to me when I passed him the water. "I think Lebeau would appreciate a quiet night."

"Fine," Newkirk agreed, but he didn't sound too happy about it.

"You can use my bunk tonight if you want to, Lebeau. Save you climbing up and down when you're not feeling good," I offered.

"Merci Carter. I think I will take you up on that."

I caught Newkirk staring at the bag of chocolate macaroons I'd been betting with. "Just do me a favour and keep these away from Newkirk, okay?" I said. I put them in my footlocker and shot Peter a suspicious look, so he'd know that I was watching him. But he just smiled like he wasn't scared of me at all.

(Someday, when I know the Colonel won't need him to go out on a mission, I'm going to fix his soap so his skin turns green!!)

When Lebeau didn't say anything Kinch looked him over again. "Do you want me to get Wilson over here?" he asked.

"Non, non. It is nothing. It is just a stomachache," Lebeau said. I stopped worrying then. It couldn't be too bad, I thought - usually Lebeau is a big baby when it comes to being sick.

Since the poker game was over, Olsen jumped up on his bunk. "You know what it is Lebeau," he said, "It's the Colonel giving you the week off from cooking." (Lebeau had been going all out lately, cooking up a storm for every high-ranking Kraut old Klink has dragged in here so he can get a promotion. We got information from one, and for the rest the Colonel wrangled us a bunch of special privileges.) Olsen went on, "For us, good cooking is a treat. We're not used to it, so we can survive going back onto Kraut food. But you? It's gonna kill you."

Lebeau smiled. "I could not agree more Olsen. If I am well tomorrow I'm going to make the best chauteau briand I have ever created - "

I said, "Wow!" Lebeau's regular chauteau briand is already fantastic.

But then he said, "And eat it all myself!"

"Well, that's gratitude for you." Gee, let a guy switch beds with you out of pure goodness of your heart and what does it get you?

"Perhaps, when I am done, if I feel like bothering, I will make something for you," Lebeau said to us, acting real snooty, like he was doing us all a great favour.

"Oh, I'll have to mark tomorrow in my diary!" Newkirk said, pretending to swoon with anticipation. "The great chef is going to come down from his ivory kitchen and cook for us common masses."

"Actually Newkirk, I was only talking to Carter."

"That's just charming Lebeau. It really is. Here I am, giving up my chance to win - "

But that's when I saw a light coming through the crack under the window sill. I jumped down from Lebeau's bunk. "Hey, I think there's someone driving into the compound." Kinch immediately pulled up the faucets that worked the outside periscope in the water barrel. All of us gathered around and even Lebeau rose up on his elbow to watch.

"So who is it mate?"

"Yeah, c'mon Kinch, what's going on?" I asked.

"Calm down will you? I'm trying to see." We all shut up and waited for Kinch to say something. "Damnit!" he swore a second later. "It's Hochstettor."

"What's he doing here? He's the last bloody person we need hanging about tonight with the Colonel gone."

"You don't think he's going to call a surprise roll call, do you?" I didn't know what we were going to do if he did that.

"I don't know," Kinch said. "The guards are pulling someone else out of the car. He's wearing handcuffs. Looks like he's Hochstettor's prisoner."

"One of ours? What's Hochstettor doing bringing in a POW?" Newkirk asked.

"It might not be one of ours - it looks like he's wearing civilian clothes. Maybe it's someone the Gestapo has been investigating."

"Like a member of the underground?" I asked.

"Maybe he's a German traitor," Newkirk suggested, trying to cheer us up. "It's well known that your average Kraut has a back-stabbing and cowardly nature. It's one of the things I love best about 'em."

"Well, we'll know in a minute," Kinch said. "They've finally woken old Blood and Guts up and they're going into his office. We'll listen in on the coffeepot." (It's got a microphone in it Dad, so that we can hear what's going on whenever Klink's in his office.)

Anyway, old Klink tried to play it tough at first. He started off with, "Major Hochstettor, what is the meaning of this intrusion? This is the toughest prisoner of war camp in all of Germany and you cannot expect me to maintain order when - "

But Hochstettor never lets him talk long when he's - well actually, he never lets him talk long at all, but _especially_ when he's trying to come off like he's in charge. "I have never expected you to maintain anything Herr _Kommandant_," he said, only when he says it always comes out as a sneer. "But I am on important business for the Gestapo and if you interfere you'll be maintaining order in a prisoner of war camp in Stalingrad. Preferably one of the enemy's."

Well, whenever Major Hochstettor or General Burkhalter (or anybody really) threatens to send the Kommandant to the Russian front, he crumbles quicker than a dried up old cookie. Suddenly it was all, "Oh yes Major Hochstettor, you know I will do whatever I can to help the Gestapo. I will bring all of my powers of efficiency to bear on your problem. I - "

"Stop Klink! Hearing that from you is the only time when I have my doubts about our achieving the thousand year Reich."

We all sighed. "I knew he was going to say something like that," I complained.

"And that bloody Klink!" Newkirk said. "Do you think he remembers to check over his shoulder before he makes a turn-around like that?"

I was about to say something else, but then Kinch glared at us because Hochstettor was still talking.

"Luckily for Germany Klink, this time I need nothing but accommodation. I have a prisoner that will be placed in your cooler and I have brought my own men to guard him, in order to spare your _best men _from any chance of behaving like they normally do and forgetting to lock the cell. As for myself, I will take your quarters, Klink."

"My quarters Major?" I tell you Dad, his voice actually squeaked, it went so high!

"Are you going deaf Klink?"

"But Major, I have guest quarters - "

"My driver will make do with those - I need him rested for the trip tomorrow. I plan to make no stops. Now, call for that bloated bell-hop that you call a head guard, and have him take my bag to your rooms."

"Yes Major Hochstettor," Klink said, and it was hard to keep from laughing at how miserable he sounded. You could practically see the look on his face.

"I will also need to commandeer your staff car tomorrow for my trip to Berlin."

"_My_ staff car?"

"More hearing problems _Kommandant_? Perhaps a strong, cold wind blowing through your ears might clear the them out. It certainly wouldn't meet any other resistance on the way through."

"But what will I use Major?"

"That is of no concern to me Klink. I must get my prisoner to Berlin and my car is having mechanical difficulties. We were lucky to make it here."

"Yes, yes. Very lucky," Klink said.

Newkirk laughed, "The stupid old sod sounds like it would've been luckier to step in front of a firing squad!" I said that that couldn't really be true, because otherwise he would've told off Hochstettor and taken his chances. Newkirk rolled his eyes at me again and told me to stop being so "bloody literal." Then Kinch ordered us both to shut up, but all we were missing was Klink trying to suck up and get his car back at the same time. The way Hochstettor ignored the Kommandant you would've thought he hadn't even heard him.

"I'm so happy you understand the importance of the situation Klink. Now I'll…" Then he broke off like he was just remembering something. "Klink - where is Hogan?"

I said, "Uh oh," but the others shushed me.

"What do you mean Major?" Klink asked.

"I mean Klink, that every time I come here, Hogan is _here_ - in your office. Not once have I been here when Hogan wasn't loitering nearby, opening his mouth and getting in the way. He is suspiciously absent tonight. Why is that?"

"It's after lights out Major. Hogan is in his barracks. Where else could he be? After all, we have never had a successful escape from Stalag - "

"Never mind Klink!" You could tell Hochstettor regretted the whole question. "As hard as I find it to believe that no one has ever tried to escape from your constant, tedious boasting, for once I am grateful to your _efficiently_ run camp if it has spared me Hogan's presence. I want nothing to interfere with my mission."

"Hey, maybe that means he won't come looking for the Colonel!"

"We get that Carter," Newkirk said.

"I'm just saying!"

"Well stop," Kinch ordered. "Both of you," he added, before Newkirk could gloat.

But the important part was over. We could hear Klink's voice trailing off as he followed Hochstettor out. Then, a few seconds later, we could hear him hollering for Schultz in the compound.

"So, now that Hochstettor has Klink sorted, what do you think it means for us?" Newkirk asked Kinch as he switched off the coffeepot.

"Well, I think we may have got lucky. Sounds like Hochstettor is too intent on this prisoner of his to want to risk having the Colonel around - which means he's probably not going to intentionally come looking for him."

"Sure," I said, "And even if usually he would love the chance to find the Colonel gone, he won't have a roll call tonight cause he's not going to want to risk finding out he's nowhere around, cause then he'd have to delay whatever it is he's doing to go chase after him."

Newkirk looked at me like he needed a second to untangle what I said in his head. (Personally, I thought I made perfect sense!) "I don't think Hochstettor would ever mind _that_, you idiot," he finally said.

"Look, hopefully Carter's right, but I think someone should stay up and keep watch," Kinch said.

"What good will that do?"

"I don't know Carter. It'll give us a few seconds warning maybe, but mostly I just want to watch for anything unusual. And I want to see if we can find out anything about Hochstettor's prisoner." Kinch sounded tired. The Colonel and the rest of us had been in and out of camp a lot recently and I think the waiting gets to him. I volunteered to take the first watch to show him that I hadn't been trying to make trouble for him or anything.

"Thanks Carter. Newkirk, I want you to go through the tunnels and see if you can talk to Hochstettor's prisoner. Be quiet about it though. Remember he's got Gestapo men watching him, not our guys. Besides, we don't know who this is. It could be a trap."

"Why do you think that?" I asked him.

"It's just a feeling I've got - like we're headed for disaster."

"Blimey mate, I hope you're not getting as psychic as the gov'ner." (I think Newkirk means governor - it's something he calls the Colonel sometimes. And he's right about the Colonel - sometimes I swear that he really can tell the future!)

Kinch laughed. "Me too. Get going Newkirk. I'm going to radio the underground and see if they've got any information on this guy."

Lebeau hadn't said a single thing the entire time we were in the Colonel's office, but now he said, "I can take a watch Kinch."

Kinch patted him on the back. "Look Lebeau, we're probably watching for nothing. I've got no real reason to believe anything is going to happen - I just want to be on the safe side. So why don't you take it easy tonight? We can handle the situation."

"But what about Colonel Hogan? He is not back yet."

"It's still early yet, Lebeau. He's probably just leaving the rendezvous point now."

"But he could be in trouble. Or maybe there will be trouble here and you will need me."

"So why not rest up till then? Carter can holler if something happens."

"Yeah, go on mate. I want some of the chauteau briand tomorrow and how can I pinch some from Carter if you're not up to making if for him?" Lebeau didn't answer, and he seemed awfully tired, but he still he looked at all of us like he was going to argue.

"Sure Lebeau, we can handle it," I told him as we all went back into the main quarters. "What's the big deal anyway? Like Kinch said, nothing's really happened yet, and probably nothing will." Well, you know me, I can be wrong about just about anything! Lebeau had nearly made it to my bunk when all of a sudden he winced and grabbed onto a bunk frame.

Kinch rushed to him. "Lebeau, what is it?" Louie had gone real white and looked like he was in a cold sweat. I got worried he might faint. He tried to answer Kinch, but then he gritted his teeth as whatever was hurting him seemed to hit him again.

I went to help him over to my bunk. "C'mon Lebeau, come sit down." He only took about two steps though, and then he sort of doubled over, groaning and clutching his stomach. Kinch practically had to carry him over.

"Where's it hurting, Lebeau?" he asked.

"My side," Lebeau managed to say, then he started breathing funny, sort of shallow, like he was trying not to be sick. Kinch realized it too and yelled at me to grab the ash pail. We managed to get it in front of Lebeau just in time. Everybody was up and crowding around by that point, but that got them to move back before Kinch had to tell them to. Instead, he ordered Newkirk to go through the tunnels to get Wilson.

I went to the sink - I figured Kinch could use a couple of wet rags, either to clean Lebeau up or to keep him from passing out. I asked Kinch why Newkirk had to go through the tunnel for Wilson; why couldn't we just get Schultz to go get him?

"Think Carter - the Colonel's not here. Even if Schultz doesn't notice, what do you think Klink and Hochstettor's first question is going to be?"

"Why isn't Colonel Hogan asking for the medic?" I guessed.

"Right. Quickly followed up by '_Where_ is Colonel Hogan?' "

Lebeau straightened up and then leaned back against the wall. "Feeling a bit better Lebeau?" Kinch asked him. Lebeau was shaking, but he nodded and his breathing sounded a little more steady. Kinch took one rag and helped him wipe his mouth, then took the other and made him lie down and put it on his forehead.

"I will be alright," Lebeau said hoarsely. "You shouldn't have risked sending Newkirk for Wilson. It is nothing but eating German food, like Olsen said."

"Yeah, well, we'll see what Wilson says. It's probably nothing but stomach flu, but better to be safe than sorry."

"But you are putting everyone in danger! You just said so."

"No, _I said _getting Schultz to get Wilson would raise a few awkward questions. Getting Wilson to come through the tunnel is fine - so stop worrying." Kinch kept trying to calm him, but I don't know if it was because he was sick or if maybe he was getting as psychic too, but he couldn't stop fretting.

"What if a guard checks Barrack 7 and finds Wilson gone?"

"Lebeau, for Pete's sake! Just lie still, will you? It's going to be alright," Kinch said, just as we heard the bunk go up and Wilson came out of the tunnel, followed by Newkirk.

Wilson started off with his whole typical doctor routine: saying "So Lebeau, I hear you're not feeling well," and then listening to his chest and taking his blood pressure and that kind of thing. It was all normal stuff; he asked Lebeau how long he'd felt sick, if he'd been eating okay, how he felt right now. Not only did Lebeau quiet down, but I think the rest of us were starting to relax as well. I was anyway.

Then Wilson asked Lebeau about the pains in his stomach. He said it hadn't been bad till just ten minutes ago; that before it had been more like a belly ache or indigestion. Now though, he said it was sharper.

"Is it all over, or is it in one area?" Wilson asked.

"Before it was all over. Now it is around here," Lebeau said, and it looked like he was pointing to his right side.

"Do me a favour Lebeau - try coughing."

Lebeau did, then suddenly hunched up and hissed as the pain hit him again.

"The same thing as before?" Wilson asked and Lebeau nodded. "Okay, where did it hurt you? The same place?" Lebeau said yes, and I noticed some of the guys starting to look more concerned.

"Alright now, I'm going to have to feel your stomach Lebeau. It might hurt a bit, but it's necessary. What I want you to do first is, when I press on you here, I want you to extend your knees and flex your thighs against the resistance. Okay, now does that hurt?"

"Yes!" Lebeau shouted, and boy, you should have seen the glare he gave Wilson!

Then Wilson touched him on his left side. I nearly said something about how that was the wrong area, but Kinch slapped me on the arm and gave me a look that told me to keep quiet. After Wilson stopped, he asked Lebeau which side hurt more.

"It is still the right side," Lebeau said, and he was sweating again. I didn't get why the pain would be on the opposite side from the one Wilson was touching, but Wilson told me later it's because of something called Rovsing's sign.

"Are you going to be sick Lebeau?" Wilson asked. Lebeau shook his head. "Then I'm just going to do just one more test, then I'm going to take your temperature. All right?"

Lebeau looked pretty miserable, but he agreed, so Wilson pressed down on Lebeau's belly - harder than before - which made Lebeau cry out and got Wilson a whole string of French curses for his trouble, but it was when he took his hand off that Lebeau really shouted.

Some of the guys looked really worried now. I was getting anxious because I didn't know what was going on. Wilson helped Lebeau to relax and took his temperature, then told Lebeau that he was going to start him on antibiotics. Lebeau nodded, since he couldn't talk with the thermometer in his mouth, and his face was scrunched up like he was still hurting. Maybe that's why he didn't notice that Wilson didn't tell him what was wrong. But Kinch did. He pulled Wilson over towards the Colonel's quarters and told him to spill it.

"You've got a problem on your hands Kinch."

"Appendicitis?"

"I'm pretty sure, yeah. There'd be other tests they'd do at the hospital, like a white blood cell count and a urinalysis, maybe an abdominal x-ray, but he's showing all of the symptoms and that's probably what it is."

"Probably? You can't be positive?"

"Appendicitis is tricky. It can mimic a lot of other things."

Kinch lowered his voice; he was practically whispering. "How serious is it? Is there anything you can do for him here?"

"Well, I'm going to start him on antibiotics. That might slow things down some. The thing is, appendicitis in itself isn't that bad, the real danger is the risk of perforation. If the appendix ruptures it can lead to a periappendiceal abscess, blockage of the intestine, peritonitis, even sepsis. All of which are critical."

"Can those things kill someone?" I asked, and it was like I couldn't swallow. I thought Lebeau just had the stomach flu, and now Wilson was talking about this!

"I'm afraid so Carter," he told me, then turned to Kinch, "I don't know how bad Lebeau is yet, but the best thing you could do is get him to a hospital right away."

Kinch looked over at Lebeau and I'd never seen his face so serious. "There's a problem with that Wilson - the Colonel isn't here and Hochstettor is in camp. And you know that if _I_ go asking for help what'll happen next."


	2. the long hours

_Okay, I think I've fixed all the mis-spellings of Hochstetter. I don't know why but I still want to spell it with an "o". Anyway, thanks to everyone who pointed it out._

**_Chapter 2_**

Sorry Dad, _Carter wrote as if he'd actually been talking to his father and they'd been interrupted, _a bunch of guys from some of the other barracks wanted to hear about Lebeau.

Anyway, so that's how it was. Lebeau was sick - really sick - but we couldn't do anything because if we tried to get help for him, then Klink and Hochstetter would have found out that the Colonel was gone. I suppose if it had just been Klink, we could have said he had escaped, but Hochstetter is obsessed about the Colonel being a spy and if he'd found the Colonel gone, it would have been game over for all of us.

That meant Kinch had to make a decision: risk everything to get Louie to the hospital, or wait and see if the Colonel came back and take the chance that Lebeau could hold out till then. We all stared at him, waiting to see what he'd do.

"Is there anything else we can do here, Wilson?"

Wilson thought about it. "An ice pack might help a bit with the pain," he said.

"I think there's one in the Colonel's office," Newkirk said. "I'll get it."

"Where can we get ice?" I asked Kinch. "We still haven't cleared out the tunnel to the kitchen after the cave-in two weeks ago."

"Why not?" he sighed, sounding like this was one of those nights when one thing just kept piling up on another.

I didn't know what to tell him. "I guess it just wasn't a high priority. The Colonel's had us all doing other things. I mean, who'd thought we'd need to get to the kitchen so badly?"

"You heard what Carter said about the tunnel?" he asked Newkirk as he was coming out of the Colonel's room with the ice pack. Newkirk nodded.

Kinch motioned for us to gather round, away from Lebeau. "Okay, give that to Foster and tell him to get some snow, maybe some ice if he can find it real quick. Newkirk, I want you and Olsen to get on some German uniforms and go out looking for the Colonel. But first, Baker, I want you to get on the radio and get a hold of the Colonel's contact to see if he's left the rendezvous point yet. If that doesn't help, try other members of the underground to see if you can narrow down the possible locations for them a bit."

"What if the gov'nor comes back while we're out?"

"We're going to get help for Lebeau the minute the Colonel's back. He's the only one they really pay attention to, so hopefully they won't notice that you're gone. That's why I'm only sending the two of you out - that way the discrepancy in the numbers won't be _too_ visible. If they do notice, we'll try to pass you off as escapees. I don't think any unit has any sabotage planned for tonight, so it shouldn't be too hard, but if things look a bit hot when you come back, play it by ear and try to surrender to camp guards if you can. However, if the Gestapo has shown up full force, don't be afraid of cutting out, alright? Lie low till you hear something."

Newkirk didn't look too happy, but he said, "Alright." He and Olsen went down into the tunnels, followed by Baker and Foster, and Wilson went back to Lebeau to give him his shot. I tried to tell myself that we were lucky to have the penicillin, but it just didn't seem like enough.

"Couldn't we do something else Kinch? Something to get help for Lebeau right now?" I whispered, trying to keep quiet.

"Like what Carter?"

"I don't know…" With the Colonel around, it's not often we feel helpless, but boy - that's what I was feeling right now. Kinch took a step towards Lebeau, but I grabbed him. "No wait Kinch, I have an idea! Why can't you ask Klink for help, and say it's you and not the Colonel because he's with Lebeau because Louie's scared. Then when they come for Lebeau, we could all bunch up real tight and Klink will think the Colonel's just somewhere in the middle of all of us."

Kinch shook his head. "That's not bad thinking Carter. And if it was just Klink, I'd probably risk it, even though he'd find it very suspicious not to have the Colonel right in his face. But Hochstetter would never fall for it."

"Maybe he wouldn't find out! I mean, Klink's not going to want to wake him up and have a cranky Hochstetter interfering in the way he runs his camp."

"Maybe Carter, but that's a chance we can't take. If Hochstetter gets one whiff of something going on in this camp he'll be over here like a shot. And once he's proved that the Colonel can get out of camp, then he'll have all the evidence he needs to put the entire barracks in front of a firing squad. And what about the rest of the camp? What about the underground? How safe do you think they'd be then?"

"But we can't just do nothing! What if we didn't even tell Klink? We could ask Schultz to take Lebeau to the hospital and not tell the Kommandant till morning, after Hochstetter's left."

"And what's Schultz going to say once the Kommandant asks why he wasn't told?"

"The Colonel will be back by then. He'll be able to make up some lie to tell the Kommandant."

I could see Kinch thinking it over. He said, "We'll wait and see Carter. The Colonel could be back any minute." What he didn't say was the big flaw in my plan: what if the Colonel didn't come back.

I don't think I've ever felt a night go by more slowly. Foster brought back the ice pack, and that seemed to help for a bit, but Lebeau was getting worse. Kinch and I tried to help him as best we could, but what could we do? Wilson stayed too, just in case. Twice he pulled Kinch away and I watched them talking. The first time they bent their heads together, like they were planning something. The second time it looked like they were arguing; Kinch was waving his hands and Wilson kept glancing over here, but I couldn't make out what they were saying.

At one point Baker came back upstairs and whispered something to Kinch and then Kinch followed him back down into the tunnel. Wilson and I sat quietly, watching Lebeau toss and turn. At first, after we had told him what was wrong, Lebeau had begged us not to do anything till the Colonel came back - he kept making us promise over and over. He told us that it wasn't bad at all and that he didn't want anybody put in danger because he was a little bit sick, especially "mon Colonel". But now he wasn't saying much except crazy things. Like he'd ask us if we'd gotten the eggs or where we put the keys to his motorcycle. Other times, he'd turn his head from side to side and you could hear him arguing with someone who wasn't there; I think maybe it was his uncle. I don't know if he was dreaming or delirious, but his fever had really gone up and I could see Wilson was worrying about it.

Wilson caught me looking at him. He asked me what time it was to distract me.

"About 2:30," I said.

"You know, you could try and get some rest," he told me. "There's no use in everyone being up."

I shook my head. "Not when Lebeau might…" I stopped; it made me feel like a chicken but I just couldn't bring myself to say it. "Not till the Colonel's back safe and I know everything is going to be okay," I said instead.

"Some of the others have gone to sleep," he said, pointing to some of the bunks.

"No they haven't." We only had one lantern lit, so most of the room was dark, but I knew they were awake and watching. "They're lying down, but they're not asleep. They're waiting too."

Kinch and Baker came back up and Kinch had Baker sit with Lebeau while he pulled Wilson and I away to talk to us. "The Colonel met his contact early. Apparently he left him around 11:30."

"Then he should have been back hours ago!" I said.

"Quiet down Carter. We don't need to tell all of Germany."

"Sorry, but jeez, I wasn't that loud."

"I know Carter. I'm sorry - I guess I'm a bit more on edge than I thought. But we have to keep things under control. I don't want to get the others too worried, especially Lebeau."

"I don't think he can hear us now," I said, and Kinch looked at Wilson for an explanation.

"His temperature has really shot up Kinch, and his abdomen is very swollen and rigid. I don't think the appendix has ruptured yet - he probably really would've been screaming if that had happened - but it's getting worse by hour."

"How long do we have Wilson?"

"Kinch, I wish I could tell you. I'm just not qualified for this, and even if I was... Look, all I can say is that the longer it goes, the more risk there is. I'm afraid you're going to have to make a decision."

Kinch looked over at Lebeau, staring for what seemed like forever. "We're going to have to wait," he said.

"Kinch, no!"

"What else can we do Carter?"

"Maybe we could create a diversion. We could burn down the delousing shed or something, and then, in the confusion, we could say we don't know where the Colonel is but Lebeau's sick."

"Even if that worked and they took Lebeau to the hospital, it would still alert Klink and Hochstetter that something was up. It'd take them fifteen minutes - tops - to call a roll call. Then what would happen to the Colonel? What would happen to all of us if they caught him outside the wire - outside and _coming back in_. They'd know he wasn't escaping."

"But Kinch, Lebeau could _die_."

"Don't you think I know that?" he snapped at me. Then he got himself under control, "Carter…Try to understand, I can't just think of one man."

"What about asking Schultz not to tell Klink?"

"I thought about it Carter, but there's a Gestapo guard stationed just outside the cooler. He'd see what was going on and report it to Hochstetter."

"But we have to do _something_!" I couldn't stand the thought of waiting around anymore. Lebeau's eyes were open, but I'd swear he wasn't seeing us and he was moaning nearly all the time now.

"Andrew, please, I need you to back me up on this," Kinch said, and the way he was looking at me, I just couldn't argue with him anymore, Dad. He needed me to agree. So I nodded and didn't say anything else. I knew he wanted to help Lebeau, and I don't even want to think about what he had to go through when he made that decision. But it was so hard to sit there and not do anything! All I could think about was how Lebeau was in so much pain and we were all just standing around like a pack of dummies. And I also couldn't help thinking about how I'd feel if I was lying there and my friends weren't helping me.

So we sat there. We kept mopping Lebeau's forehead to keep him cool and someone got some more snow for the ice pack, but that's about all we could do. He woke up and was sick a few times, but mostly he lay there moaning and muttering to himself some more - not really awake, but not really asleep either. Kinch and I didn't talk much. The whole night began to remind me of those Sunday afternoons when Mom would drag me over to Aunt Irene's to visit and everyone would get so quiet that you could hear that big old grandfather clock in the front room ticking away.

Around 4:30, Newkirk and Olsen came back. They reported to Kinch in hushed voices, but no one really had to say anything. We could see they were alone and they could see that Lebeau was still here. Olsen climbed up onto his bunk and sat there, just staring sadly in our direction and smoking a cigarette, but Newkirk started pacing. At least till he smacked a bunk frame across the room in frustration, making us all look up suddenly and getting Kinch to pull him into the Colonel's office for a talk.

I was really getting worried about the Colonel now too. He should have been back long before, and I could see the guys checking their watches every so often, thinking the same thing. But as bad as it was for us, it had to have been a hundred times worse for Kinch. Every time he looked at Lebeau, you could see him second guessing his decision and having to make it all over again. On top of that, there were times when I could see that he was probably wondering what the Colonel would have done; maybe he even thought that the Colonel would have had an answer, and that somehow he'd missed it.

Oh, don't get me wrong, when he looked at us he made sure to look confident so we wouldn't start panicking - Kinch is good that way - but once, when Lebeau let out a loud cry, Kinch clamped his hand down hard on his mouth, and then glanced at me before quickly turning his head away. For just a second, he'd been more worried about hiding the noise and not about what Lebeau was going through and that kind of surprised me. But from the way he got embarrassed, it was easy to tell that he'd overreacted because he was getting more and more anxious for the both of them. I felt bad for him. Boy, that must be one of the hardest things about being in charge - pretending you're not feeling what you're feeling so everyone else will be okay. Probably even the Colonel can't do it every second.

Close to 5:00, Kinch broke the silence. "Wilson, if there's nothing more you can do, you might as well go back to your barracks. Roll call is in half an hour, and one way or another, things will come to a head then," he said quietly. There was something about his voice that sounded so final.

Wilson sighed and got up to leave. "Okay Kinch. But if anything changes, get me quick."

"Yeah."

It was quiet again for twenty minutes or so. Lebeau was still groaning loudly, even sounding like he was close to screaming a couple of times, but there didn't seem to be a whole lot of change. I got up - I just couldn't sit there anymore.

"Where you going, Andrew?" Newkirk asked me in a whisper.

"I thought I'd go down in the tunnel and see if the Colonel's back. Maybe he's just come in and he's taking his time changing or something."

"I'll go with you Carter," Kinch said, hushing his voice like Newkirk had. "I need to stretch my legs." But that wasn't really why he wanted to come. You know what I said about Kinch always having to wait and how I think it gets to him? Now I knew how it felt. It's got to be one of the worse things I could imagine - I don't know how he can do it all the time. But tonight had been really bad and he needed to get away, even if it was just for a few minutes.

As soon as I got off the ladder, I was straining my ears, trying to hear any noise that meant the Colonel was back. Kinch didn't bother with that; he started off right away down the tunnel towards the emergency entrance. I followed him, and we were about half way there when we saw him.

"Colonel! Boy are we glad to see you!" I started to say, but then I noticed that Kinch had stayed back. It was like he was frozen.

"There's lipstick on your neck," was all he said to the Colonel. The sudden edge in his voice brought me up short. I wondered what was Kinch doing - we had to get the Colonel up top as soon as possible!

The Colonel sort of swaggered up to me with a bit of a smug look on his face, and draped an arm over my shoulders, pulling me a few steps towards Kinch. Then he put his other arm over Kinch's shoulder. "Gentlemen, let me tell you about my evening - "

Kinch threw the Colonel's arm off before he could say anything else. "You're needed upstairs, NOW," was the only thing he said before he stomped off back towards the tunnel entrance.

"What's with him?" the Colonel asked me.

"Colonel, you've got to get upstairs real quick - Lebeau's sick!"

That happy look was gone in a second and he was all business. He tore off after Kinch, changing his jacket and hat on the run, and by the time I was climbing out of bunk entrance, he was rushing out to get the Kommandant to call the hospital.

----

_Carter stopped writing and stretched his arms. In roughly half a day, he'd nearly gone through the writing tablet he'd bought a few months ago. The Colonel and Wilson weren't back from the hospital yet, so there was still no news. He crossed his arms on his work counter and rested his chin on top of them, looking morosely at what he had written. He wanted to keep going; he felt like he hadn't even gotten to the important part yet. His hand was killing him and his eyes were burning, but he felt like he couldn't be done until he'd somehow gotten rid of this awful feeling that was like a clump of miserable sludge inside him._

_After going out to scrounge up some more paper, he started writing again._

_----_

Anyway Dad, things got pretty hectic this morning for awhile there. The Colonel was demanding help, but Klink was stalling because it was early morning and I guess he didn't want to think too hard or something. After that, he must have been digging in his heels and being stupid just for the heck of it, cause it just seemed as if he was refusing to see how bad things were.

The thing is, he'll only move quickly if _he's_ the one in trouble, since that's the only time he cares enough. Otherwise it throws him off when the Colonel disrupts his routine, and then he either can't make a decision, or he doesn't want to. Usually, the Colonel uses psychology and makes Klink think that whatever he's doing is his idea, when all along he's just doing what the Colonel always wanted him to do. But today the Colonel couldn't do that, cause Lebeau couldn't wait, which is what he kept trying to get through Klink's dumb head.

Plus Hochstetter was around, so I guess Klink didn't want to look weak and give into the Colonel while the Gestapo was there. Klink still wanted us to have roll call, despite Schultz backing up the Colonel and telling him that Lebeau was really sick. (Lebeau's is Schultzie's favourite prisoner - without him there's no apple strudel.) Finally, Hochstetter took his stupid prisoner and left - good riddance - and the Colonel, who just about had steam coming out of his ears by now, got us all to line up for roll call instead of arguing any more with Klink.

It's a good thing Klink didn't do any speeches afterwards though - he would have had a riot on his hands! Everyone was swearing under their breaths like all get out and I don't blame them! I don't think I've ever been as mad as I was then. Newkirk called him a pompous blowhard, and that's what he is. Before, I'd always thought he was okay. Not someone I'd want to know, cause he's a bully with people under him, and a coward to anyone over him, but at least he was never cruel or anything.

But this morning, the way he was fussing around and wouldn't think of Lebeau, and just had to have things his way so that he could look big and think well of himself, I could almost believe that in a way, that's nearly as bad as anything else. People like him are the reason the Nazis are in power in the first place. They were either too scared or too wrapped up in themselves to stand up when they should have. I know this doesn't sound like me, and maybe it's only because I was so worried about Lebeau, but this morning I couldn't see how the Colonel can talk to Klink everyday and never just haul off and deck him.

When the roll call was done, that's when he _finally_ ordered a guard to get the truck so that Lebeau could be taken to the hospital. Though I know it bugged him to have to ask, the Colonel kept his cool and sucked up to Klink enough so that he and Wilson could go too. In the mean time, we went into the barracks to help Kinch move Lebeau.

Dad, we tried our best, but he still screamed when we picked him up. You probably heard guys cry out like that in the First War - your friends - so you know what I mean. It's strange, but I think it's even worse remembering it now than it was hearing it then. Then, I was too busy concentrating on hurting him as little as possible. But now…well, it might not have been the worst scream of pain in the world, but I know that I definitely don't want to hear anyone sound like that again.

But I guess that's a dumb thing to expect in a war.

So the Colonel and Wilson went off with Lebeau, and we were left to wait again. I think Newkirk was put out that we didn't _all_ get to go with them, especially since we were the ones who had sat up with him all night. I felt the same way, but I knew Klink would never have allowed it, and the Colonel hadn't had the time to convince him. But it didn't matter because everybody was about to get a whole lot more angry about something else.

I don't know how to describe to you what Kinch looked like that morning. He's a pretty quiet guy most of the time, and so it's hard to know what he's feeling. He was standing in the middle of the barracks, all stiff like. You could see the storm brewing in him. I always thought that comparisons like that were dumb, but it was true. I could see the anger gathering up in him, building like a strong twister. And his eyes were so cold and his face so closed up - everyone stopped because we knew something was about to happen. Then all of a sudden he just roared and punched the stove pipe! Knocked it right out so that the soot went flying!

"That inconsiderate son of a bitch!" he shouted.

"Look mate, I know Klink - "

"Not _Klink_, Newkirk. I'm talking about our goddamned CO!" he spat out, and then stormed out of the barracks without explaining.

"What the hell is going on?" Newkirk asked me.

I didn't really want to tell them, but I knew Newkirk would bug me till I did. "The Colonel had lipstick on his neck. He was gone all night because he was with a girl." Somehow, I couldn't look them in the eye when I said it, as if I'd done something wrong just by being the one to break the news.

Newkirk didn't say anything for a moment. No one did. When he finally did speak, it was like he couldn't quite believe that the Colonel would do that, "He…he was out on a date? He risked all of us for a _BLOODY DATE_?"

I didn't answer him.

"Lebeau could have _died_! We _ALL_ could've!" he yelled. Then he stared at me for a few more seconds - till I looked away - before stalking off like Kinch had. All the other guys crowded around me then and started talking at once, but I didn't want to hear it. I was tired and what I wanted was to go to bed, but now they were all shouting all over one another and I settled for getting away from everybody.

So I came down here. I tried to work, but I couldn't concentrate on anything. Even after an hour or so had passed, I still didn't want to go back up.

What I was really bothered about was the idea of seeing the Colonel when he came back. (I sure as heck didn't know he'd be gone this long!) I didn't want to face him, but I didn't know why. It took some thinking, but I figured it out eventually. I was disappointed in him. I was mad because I felt like he'd let us all down, and even the idea that he _could've_ let us down made it even worse.

But then I remembered all the stories you told me about your CO when you were fighting in France in the first war - about how he was so hard on you all, and that's when I got the idea of writing you this letter, Dad.

I remember saying how I couldn't understand how you could like someone like that. But you said you could because you could sympathize with all the pressure he was under. I remember you telling me, "He wasn't there to be my friend. He was there to make sure we got the job done and to make sure we knew what to do to keep ourselves safe. He was taking care of what was important." And then you told me that if I ever went to war, that I'd be lucky to get that. So I should just accept it, because anything more was icing on the cake.

But see, you've got to understand how we all think of Colonel Hogan - it's like he's one of us, but on the other hand, we depend on him because it's like he can get us out of _anything_. I've always thought that there was nothing he couldn't do. I suppose though, that I just wanted to feel safe, and it's easier to be brave when you think there's someone around who's always going to have the answer and who's always going to take care of you.

Then I got to thinking about all that Colonel Hogan has to do. He has to make all the plans and he has to keep us all in line and take care of all of us. (And by _us_ I mean the whole camp!) He has to deal with the Germans and make all of the big decisions. So I suppose I'm being really unfair by expecting him to be perfect on top of everything else. If you get to expecting the impossible from someone all the time then maybe it's your fault, and not theirs, if you get disappointed.

Anyway, so that's what I've been thinking about. I have to admit I still feel a little let down - it's kind of hard to let go of the idea that someone you admire can do no wrong - but I'm going to try and get over it the best I can. I figure I owe the Colonel that much. Maybe I'll go see what the others are up to. Hopefully everyone has cooled down a bit by now.


	3. things explode everyday

**_Chapter 3 _**

Well Dad, trying to talk to the guys was a great, big, stupid waste of time! Everybody wants to be mad - so you know what? I'll let'em be mad! Why should I stop them? Why I should I try and make them feel better? What have they ever done for me but yell at me?

----

_Carter stopped writing and tried to get himself under control. Talking to the others hadn't just been a waste of time - it had been a total catastrophe. But he asked himself what good was shouting at his father - even in a letter - going to do? He wondered if he should stop writing all together - what was he doing this for anyway? But after a few minutes, he took a few deep breaths and started again._

----

I went looking for the guys. I don't know what I thought I could do for them, but I wanted to do something. I wanted to help. Or maybe I wanted them to help me. I don't know.

I found Kinch first. He was in the radio room, but he wasn't doing anything - just sitting there and glaring at nothing. He told me to get lost before I even got to open my mouth.

"I only wanted to see if you were okay," I said.

"You can see that I am, so do me a favour and beat it."

"You know, if you're still worried about Lebeau, he's going to be - "

"Carter! I'm not in the mood for any of your "look of the bright side, everything will be okay" talk."

"Alright. But I'm sure the Colonel didn't mean - "

"God Carter, you don't understand anything. Just leave me the hell alone!"

I was going to tell him that there was no need to bite my head off, but I decided to walk away instead. He sure hadn't cooled off any, and I didn't need him as angry at me as he was at the Colonel.

Newkirk was up top. He had come back and was pacing around the hut like he was so mad that he didn't know what to do with himself. He was ranting out loud to some of the guys, but I don't think he really cared if they were listening or not. He was going on and on about how the Colonel had put us all in danger the night before, all just for his own selfish reasons.

"What if Hochstettor had called a special roll call?" he asked them. "Or he could have been delayed, or caught, or who knows what, swanning about nearly in ruddy daylight. And then where would we have been, I ask you? Up the flipping creek, that's where! Pushing up the daisies before the day was out!"

"And what are we supposed to tell Louie?" he started without warning when he spotted me. "Oh terribly sorry we nearly let you die mate, but the Colonel was desperate to get a leg over." He poked me in the chest. "Eh Carter? Tell me how you'd feel if I said that to you! Tell me!"

I nearly asked him what "get a leg over" meant, but then I thought better of it - I could sort of tell from the way he said it anyway. "Jeez Newkirk, that's kind of unfair, isn't it?" I said, though in one way it's not, because the Colonel does go around with a lot of girls.

"How is it unfair?" he snapped at me. "You know damn well that if it had been one of us putting the whole camp at risk for a bit of fun that we'd never've heard the bleeding end of it!"

"Well, sure, okay, he did make a mistake, but we all - " I started to say, but Newkirk interrupted.

"He's a blasted hypocrite, is what he is. As long as there's some pretty bird involved (bird is what Newkirk sometimes calls girls) then it's all, _"Oh no, this mission is too dangerous for any of you!" _As if we couldn't do it as well as him!" Newkirk pointed his finger at me, "But let him catch one of us stopping at the Hofbrau for one measly, bloody pint and suddenly it's, _"What were you thinking - you put the entire operation at risk!"_ and we get laundry duty for a week!"

(That got me thinking Dad - I get laundry duty all the time. Is the Colonel punishing me for something and not telling me?)

But Newkirk was still shouting and waving his arms around - he was really working himself up. "I've just about had it with this place! And _him_ especially!" That got me worried - Newkirk's usually the first to defend the Colonel - we had a General here once that thought the Colonel was a traitor, and Newkirk's the one who went out of his way to set him straight. Not to mention that Newkirk's been here an awfully long time. What if he wanted to leave? I sat down on the bench and kept my eyes on him, so he'd know I was listening and paying attention, and hoped that he was only blowing off steam.

"Oh, he's quick enough to set down the rules about who we can fraternize with," Newkirk went on, "Or to give us dirty looks when we're not being serious enough for him. But when it comes to him, apparently all the rules can go hang."

"Quit shooting your mouth off Newkirk," Baker said from across the room. "It was a simple mistake. How was the Colonel supposed to know we were in trouble?"

"How was he supposed to know we weren't?" Newkirk asked in return. "And from the looks of it, he didn't bother himself too much about how worried we going to get either."

Now Olsen got into it. "Newkirk's right," he argued. "For all the Colonel knew, we could have been in all kinds of trouble while he was rolling in the hay. Hell, for that matter, why's he always the one going out anyway?"

"He wants to keep us safe," I explained. I didn't like where all of this was going.

Olsen jumped down from his bunk. "Bullshit, Carter," he said. "CO's are supposed to stay back for a reason. His job is to take care of the camp. Besides, if someone gets caught, the Colonel's the best man to get him out of trouble." And now Olsen was pointing his finger at me too! "But if the Colonel gets caught, then we're all stuck back here with our thumbs up our keisters, not knowing what to do. Not to mention he's the one who knows everything about the operation and all of our plans. He's the most important prize the Krauts round here could get. As well as being the one who's the most easily missed! Klink doesn't give a damn about the rest of us - probably couldn't pick most of us out of a line up. We're only important to him in making the numbers match up. But the Colonel being gone is pretty damn obvious. So I'll tell you - the Colonel going out puts us more at risk than anything else! How's that keeping us safe? Playing the big hero and taking all the risks only looks good on paper. And what's he doing it for? Newkirk's right - does he think we can't do the job?"

"Too bloody right! And you can bet he wasn't thinking of our safety last night when he was playing games with his pretty little fraulein. You'd think he'd get enough of that with Klink's secretary."

"Is that why you're angry Newkirk?" Baker asked. "Because you're jealous?"

"Sod off Baker!" Newkirk yelled. "I'm angry because he put us all in danger, especially Lebeau! And all just to chat up some bird!"

I jumped up. "You're all being unfair," I told them. "We don't know what really went on yet! And even if the Colonel did make a mistake - "

"Blimey Carter, _made a mistake? _You make it sound like he picked the wrong road coming back and got lost in the woods. He _willingly_ risked our lives last night, with no thought at all to how stupid he was being. And he made us worry about _him_ - all the while he was off having a good time!"

"Well, I'm sure he's real sorry about it now. I bet he's already apologized to Lebeau."

"Oh very nice indeed! Fat lot of good that's going to do Louie! Even if he is aliv - "

"He's not dead!" I shouted. "Don't talk about him like he's dead!" Everybody stopped talking for a second and stared at me.

"Fine Carter," Newkirk said after a moment. "He's not dead. But he's probably unconscious. He's probably sick as a flipping dog!"

"That would have happened anyway! The Colonel could've come back right away after his meeting and Lebeau would've still been sick."

"But how sick? How do we know his appendix didn't rupture on the way to the hospital?"

"How do we know it did?" Some of the guys laughed at that - Newkirk had argued by answering with the opposite question to Baker's just a couple of minutes ago and now I did it to him. But I was too upset to care. How could Newkirk even suggest Lebeau was dead? What is so hard about believing Lebeau will be alright? What is so wrong about hoping for the best until we knew different?

"Don't talk rubbish Carter - you know what I mean. How many hours more did Lebeau have to suffer because of him? And what about us? We were the ones who had to take care of Lebeau all night - we were the ones who had to watch that suffering."

"Well, he'll probably apologize to us when he gets back Newkirk. You have to give him a chance - it's not like he had a whole lot of time to this morning."

Newkirk just shook his head like he was completely disgusted. Him and Olsen and a few of the others were wearing expressions on their faces that said that talking to me was hopeless.

It's a look I see a lot.

"Well, you don't disappoint, do you mate?" Newkirk started lecturing me. "I don't think there's one blooming thing in this world that you can't ignore by copping that daft Shirley Temple attitude and sticking your head in the sand! Carter, for once, just once, can you not be afraid to look at the facts?"

Boy, that got me mad! That was the second time in ten minutes someone had said that I didn't understand, that I was nothing but some dumbbell who was living in his own world and not the real one. Everyone's _always_ razzing me and giving me dirty looks, like I'm so hard to live with, but nobody ever stops to think about how much I put up with from them! I walked right up to Newkirk and started shouting in his face.

"I'm not the who's afraid - you are!"

His whole talking down to me tone disappeared in a flash. "What did you say?" He tensed up and I thought he was going to hit me, but I didn't care. I was just shaking and it was like all the hurt and fear inside of me was exploding out and I hadn't even noticed it was there in the first place.

"You heard me! You're a coward! I'm not afraid to look facts in the face - you're afraid to hope! And you want to know why? Cause it's easier! And cause then you've got something to club the Colonel over the head with!"

"I've got every right to be - "

But this time I was going to be the one who got to interrupt. "You want to be mad cause you're scared for Lebeau! You don't want to believe he'll be okay because it'll hurt too much if he's not. And you want to yell at the Colonel cause you're tired from being up all night and you're tired of being here and of being frustrated and bored and cold! But it's the same for all of us! You think we're not feeling the exact same way? You think the rest of us aren't scared and tired and bored? Well, I guess you must have your own head in the sand cause you're always griping and complaining like you're the only one! And you want to know why? Because it takes strength to look on the bright side! It takes strength to have faith that everything will be okay! _And that's strength that you don't have!_"

The guys were pretty stunned. Not one of them said anything; even Newkirk just looked at me with kind of wide eyes. It was one of those silences where you're supposed to be able to hear a pin drop. That made me mad too, somehow. Why's it such a big deal for me to get angry once in awhile? Aren't I allowed to or something?

You know, some people say that if you let the anger out you feel better, but they're wrong. At least I sure as heck didn't. Newkirk and I just stood there, toe to toe, and I was breathing hard and still no one said anything, though they were starting to hem and haw kind of nervously. I was still mad, but now I was embarrassed and ashamed and everything was suddenly awkward. There was so much emotion running through me I thought I was choking on it, and, though I hate to admit it even to you, I could feel tears pricking at my eyes. After a couple of seconds I couldn't take it anymore - I had to get out of there. So I shoved Newkirk out of the way and ran out the door.

I walked away quickly, but I didn't run, even though I was a little afraid of Newkirk coming after me. I was thinking that he'd probably want to beat me up, but mostly I couldn't stand the idea of facing him again. I just would've done something stupid or embarrassing if that had happened. So for awhile I just wandered around the compound, not really knowing where to go. I kept asking myself why I had yelled at Newkirk like that. He'd just been spouting off, not even much more worse than he usually did. And he was tired after last night, not to mention he did have some right to be angry with the Colonel. If I'd just left him alone, he probably would have gotten over it by tomorrow.

Thinking about it now, I suppose I'm more tired than I realized. I thought I was fine but -

----

_Carter was startled by a loud knock on the door of his lab. "Carter, you in there?" a voice called._

"_Could you leave me alone Foster? I don't really want to talk to anybody right now."_

"_I just thought I'd let you know the Colonel's back."_

"_What? Oh thanks Foster!" Carter said, and quickly shoved his letter into a drawer. This time there was no thought in his head about not finishing it._

_----_

Sorry I didn't finish that last bit Dad, but the Colonel came back. He called us all together in the main quarters to tell us about Lebeau. I tried to sneak in quietly, but most of the guys were already there and I caught Newkirk glaring at me, so I stayed in back, between the bunks and the tunnel entrance. I refused to look like I was sorry though.

But it was even worse for Kinch. Practically everybody but the Colonel and Wilson were watching him out of the corner of their eyes, waiting to see how he'd react.

"Okay," the Colonel said once he saw everyone was there. "It looks pretty good - that's the main thing. There were a few complications, and his recovery is going to take a little while, but Lebeau is going to be perfectly alright."

"What happened?" Tony Garlotti asked, and at the same time Kinch asked, "What sort of complications?"

"His appendix ruptured when we were about ten minutes away from the hospital," Wilson told us. "They operated on him as soon as they could though, so hopefully things won't get too bad. He also had some intestinal blockage, but it was slight." That sounded pretty rough to me; I wondered if Wilson was being completely honest.

Somebody asked when he was coming back. "They'll have to watch him for a few days before they can give us any definite information, but I'd say in maybe a couple of weeks,"  
Wilson said.

"Can we go see him?" I asked.

"I'll talk to Klink, but don't get your hopes up Carter."

"Privileges like that are only for senior officers," I heard Newkirk whisper to Olsen.

The Colonel shot him a look. "What was that Corporal?"

"Nothing, _sir_," Newkirk said.

"Fine," the Colonel said, but his gaze didn't leave Newkirk for a second and you could see he was suspicious. Then he turned to all of us and asked, "Any other questions?" When no one said anything, he clapped his hands together like it was time to get down to business. "Alright then, let's talk about - "

Kinch just stared at him like he couldn't believe what he was hearing. "Is that it?"

The Colonel shrugged, and looked a bit puzzled. "Yeah, I think so. The hospital didn't tell us much."

"He means - "

"No Newkirk. It's alright. The Colonel's right - that's that." Newkirk's head shot round to stare at Kinch like Kinch had just slapped him.

As for me, I'd never heard Kinch use that kind of tone before. Even old Klink would've picked up on the tension - so of course Colonel Hogan caught it real quick. We all turned to stare at him now, like we were in a saloon in some Western, watching one guy call another out.

"Is there something more that we need to discuss, Sergeant?" Colonel Hogan asked.

"Apparently not." Kinch's eyes never left the Colonel's, but suddenly things were different. His shoulders drooped a little, and his voice wasn't quite mad anymore, more like cool and distant.

That's when I realized that he's disappointed in the Colonel too.

The Colonel just said, "Fine then. Let's get on to other things. Now what about Hochstettor and his prisoner?"

"We can't tell you anything. We didn't get a chance to talk to him last night." That surprised me. I was sure Kinch would've thought to send someone. Maybe he did and they just couldn't get to the guy for some reason.

"What about this morning? Did you make contact with anyone in the underground? Someone who might've seen or heard something?"

"I'm afraid not." The way Kinch said this, it wasn't exactly what you'd call respectful. I started to wonder, if the Colonel thought everything was normal, why he wasn't calling Kinch on it. Then Kinch got up without the Colonel dismissing him, and hit the button on the bunk frame for the tunnel entrance.

"Report to me in my quarters when you hear something," the Colonel ordered him, even though Kinch hadn't said that was what he was going off to do. "The rest of you, go talk to the guards and see if they know anything."

Nobody moved.

"You heard me - get going!"

A couple of guys stood and some of us, including me, made like we were going to work our way towards the door, but we froze when we saw that the rest of them weren't moving.

At first, when Colonel Hogan didn't say he was sorry, or even mention the night before, I thought maybe it was because he didn't realize that he had to. After all, Kinch had only said something about their being lipstick on his neck, and what with the worry about Lebeau and all, maybe he hadn't realized that Kinch and I had figured out where he'd been, or what we'd made of that. And if he hadn't thought of that, then there's no way he would've known that we'd told the others.

But now he put two and two together. He crossed his arms over his chest and stared us down. "Okay, I get it. So that's how it is, eh? I make one mistake and all of you drop out of the Army."

Newkirk stood up and faced him. "Nice of you to finally get 'round to admitting it."

"Watch it Corporal!"

"Yes, _sir_, Colonel, _sir_."

"I am not going to take any disrespect from you! Any of you!" the Colonel shouted. "Now, I'm sorry for what happened last night, I made a grave error in judgement, but that doesn't mean for one moment I'm going to put up with anyone questioning my authority."

"Is that it?" Newkirk demanded.

"No Corporal, that's not it - you're on KP for the next month!" Colonel Hogan told him. "And anyone else who'd like to take this opportunity to be insubordinate will get the same." Then he stormed into his office and slammed the door.

I was still staring at the door to the Colonel's quarters when somebody shoved me. It was Newkirk. "Well strong man, where's your apology now?" When I didn't say anything he poked me in the shoulder. "Perhaps now you'll pull your thumb out of your mouth and stop looking for someone else to be your hero. Then maybe you'll learn that what takes real strength is to realize that you can't count on anybody."

"Just leave me alone Newkirk."

"Gladly mate, gladly," he said and smiled meanly as he walked out the barrack door.

I didn't want to go and talk to the guards. I wasn't disobeying the Colonel on purpose or anything, but I just didn't feel up to it. The Colonel came out of his office five minutes later, still mad, and found me sitting there.

"Carter, what the hell are you doing here sitting and moping? Didn't you hear me tell you to go talk to the guards?"

"I'm sorry sir, I'll - "

"You know, I'm getting pretty sick of the attitude round here," he started yelling at me, and boy oh boy Dad, did you and Mom break a mirror or something when I was born? Cause here I was, one of the few sticking up for him, yet I'm the one he decided to tear into, just because of my stupid, rotten luck.

"What is it?" he kept going, "Do you think I don't feel guilty? I'd give anything to change what happened but I've got a damn camp to run. I've got to find out what poor slob Hochstettor's got in his clutches. I don't have the damn time to sit around on my duff and wallow in guilt, do you get me? I don't have that luxury."

I tried to tell him that I understood, that I agreed with him, but he didn't stop long enough for me to say anything.

"And what's wrong with the rest of you? I know you had bigger things on your mind last night, but are you telling me that Kinch couldn't have found one of you to go over to the cooler and talk to that poor bastard Hochstettor had locked up?"

I'm not telling you anything, I thought.

"For God's sake, problems _never_ come one at a time - and I thought you all knew that! I didn't realize I still had to hold your hands for you. But I guess it's easier to leave all the thinking to me. I'm the Colonel, so it's my job to be perfect. It's my job to always come up with the answers."

I'd never heard the Colonel talk like this before. I'd never heard him complain about us like this. But thinking about it now makes me wonder if he had a point. Maybe we always do look to him for the answers. And maybe we like to think he's perfect so then we don't have to be; we don't have to make the same decisions or be as brave, because there's no way we could do the same things. It's like in our heads we think, "We can't be as smart as Colonel Hogan. He's special. You can't expect that of _us, _we're nobodies - it's not fair."

But when he was yelling at me, all I could of to say was that we'd been upset last night, that we'd been worried for Lebeau.

"That's no damn excuse Carter!" he snapped. "You've all got to learn to start taking care of yourselves and stop depending on me all of the time! And don't look so hurt either, Carter, it's bad enough I've got to be the _legendary_ Papa Bear out there," he said, pointing a thumb towards the outside, though I don't know if he meant the camp or out in the countryside, "the one who isn't allowed to do anything wrong. I don't want to have to do it here too. So go do what I told you to!"

I took off, and I'll tell you, I've had enough of people shouting at me! A lot of what the Colonel said was true I suppose, but right now, I don't care! Let'em sit and stew. I'm sick of trying to understand and I'm sick of trying to make peace. What's going on around here anyway? It's not like this is the worst thing we've ever been through - not by a long shot. Why can't the guys forgive the Colonel? What's the big deal? What kind of team are we if we can't forgive a few mistakes between us? And why didn't the Colonel apologize? That's not like him; he's never been afraid to do that before.

Anyway Dad, I wish more than anything that you were here to explain all of this to me. All I can do now is hope that everything gets better tomorrow. I wish I was smarter though - sometimes I feel like hoping things get better on their own is all that I've ever been able to do.

Maybe I should just concentrate on hoping the war will end soon. It's got to happen someday, right?

* * *

_Okay, I'm going to make one last call to entice everyone over to the forums right here on the site, especially to the Challenges topic, because I think that there a lot of good ideas there and I'd love to see someone do them. As well as official challenges, there's a lot of good story ideas, so if you need inspiration, come on over._

_To tempt you, here are the titles to my challenges, along with their post number to make them easy to find, in case you don't want to sit through all of our yammering:_

1) The "It's Oh So Colditz Outside" challenge, post # 38

2) The "Real Mavis McCoy" challenge, post #38

3) The "More Specific Kinch" challenge, post #30

4) The "Less Specific Kinch" challenge, post #30

5) The "Land of the Rising Hun" challenge, post #38

6) The "Staying Alive" challenge, post #46

7) The "Blackadder Pleads the Fifth" challenge, post #53

8) The "Wobbly Wolfgang Goes to the Hun-Happy Hour" challenge, post #59

9) The "Lafeyette, We Are in Deep Trouble" challenge, post #68

_Full details are on the forum topic, as well as many more great challenges from Tuttle4077 and Sayla Ragnorok. _


	4. picking up a few of the pieces

**_Chapter 4 _**

Dear Dad,

It's been two days now and things haven't gotten any better around here. Everybody's tense and avoiding each other, no one is talking or joking, and we're messing up every job the Colonel orders us to do. It's awful. At roll call, when we all have to be together, everyone tries to stand as far away as they can, and no one even wants to look at anyone else.

I think I've spent the whole time between then and now trying to figure it all out, and the only thing I can think of, is that maybe Colonels aren't supposed to apologize. Sure, the Colonel has never been like that; he's always been able to admit when he's made a bad call about a mission, or over-acted a part. But this is different, and maybe an officer can only admit to so much in front of his men. I remember you telling me that most officers wouldn't think it was right to ask forgiveness from their men, even when they knew they'd actually made a mistake and wanted to say they were sorry. You tried explaining different things about fraternization and discipline, and that it wasn't just about keeping up an image. It was hard for me to understand, but you kept going on about it because you could see that I didn't get it - it was so different from how things were at home.

But I guess it's one thing to remember this, and another thing to accept it. As much as I'm trying to understand the Colonel and why he's doing what he's doing, I'm still mad because it's his job to keep the team together. If everyone is fighting with each other and can't work together, then we're in serious trouble because around here that can get you killed!

Maybe he doesn't know how badly we feel about not being able to help Lebeau, and that everyone's upset because he's the one who put us in that situation. And okay, maybe it's unfair of us to feel like he let us down, but if he'd just talk about it, everybody might feel less resentment. But it's like he doesn't see that.

The thing is, Colonel Hogan's so darn smart. I wouldn't have thought in a million years that he'd miss something like this. You know what I think? I think he actually feels a lot worse than we think he does. That could be why he won't talk about it.

Do you remember that watch your grandpa gave you? The one he had during the Civil war? And remember how I took it to school one day to show off to the other kids and then I lost it? Well, the whole way home that day, I was thinking up arguments in my head as to why it wasn't my fault. I was thinking, "Some dirty, rotten stink must have stolen it," and "It's not fair! You should be able to trust people," and things like that. By the time I got home I was actually mad, and as soon as I saw you, I started yelling them out all in a rush, like I had even more right than you to be angry; like it was everybody's fault but mine.

But I knew even then, as soon as the watch was gone, that it WAS my fault. I wasn't even scared about how badly you were going to punish me. Well okay, maybe I was a little, but mostly I was just so upset cause I knew how much that watch meant to you. I don't think I was ever so sorry for anything in my life, but I couldn't bring myself to admit it because it hurt too much. So I got defensive, and I think I thought up those arguments just to justify myself to myself.

And that's what the Colonel was like the other morning when he was yelling at me. It took me a little while to see it, but he had had his arguments all ready, like he'd thought them up before he even saw me. And they came out almost as fast as mine did back then, cause he'd probably come up with them before he'd even got back to camp.

So maybe that's why he's not talking to us - because he feels guilty.

Newkirk too. I mean, when he flew off the handle the other day, it was only because that's how he gets when he's scared for one of us. Like when Lebeau and I were late getting back from a pick-up once; the first thing he did when he saw us was demand to know where we'd been and what kept us. Or when Lebeau fell off the roof trying to fix a leak - Newkirk started cursing Klink for being at his stupid astrologer's instead doing his duty in camp. (1)

I'm not so sure why exactly Kinch is mad. I wouldn't blame him if he was honestly angry at the Colonel. Out of all of us, he's got the most reason to be - well, except for Lebeau, I guess - since the Colonel being gone is what forced all of that responsibility on him. But sitting there with him that night, and seeing what he was going through, I think I know what he's thinking now. He's thinking that he should have found a way to help Lebeau - that there was a solution and he didn't find it. That he let us down or something. I bet he's also thinking that if the Colonel had been there, that he would have found an answer. I don't know about that, but I sure as heck didn't have one to give him, and I know how that feels.

Okay, so now I can understand why everyone's feeling so bad. But what good does all of this do us? And what happens if we don't get past it? I'm worried that things aren't ever going to be the same around here.

There's only one thing I can do. I don't want to, but I'm sick of sitting around and doing nothing. If I've learned anything from being here, it's that sometimes you've got to stand up and do something, even if what you're doing seems like the dumbest thing you could do.

But jeez, I'm going to end up being court-martialled for sure!

----

It's later Dad - nearly midnight - and I'll tell you, it's been one heck of a day!

I decided that I had to go to the Colonel and try and talk some sense into him. Me! Nobody wants to listen to me at the best of times. It was like deciding I was going to walk into a bear cage.

I had no idea what I was going to say, or how I was even going to get him to sit down and talk to me in the first place, but what else could I do? Even if I convinced Kinch and Newkirk to try and put everything behind them, they would never really be able to, unless they sorted it out with the Colonel first.

The Colonel was in his office, and no one else was in the barracks. Which isn't so strange now that I think about it - since they were all avoiding him - but this morning all I thought was that I was glad they weren't there to see what I was about to do. In fact, I probably wouldn't have been able to go through with it, if they'd been there to see me staring at his door like an idiot, trying to work up my nerve to go in. I must have hemmed and hawed for ten minutes; I'd take a step forward and raise my fist to knock, then change my mind and jump back fast, in case he came out and saw me.

Anyway, he must have heard me, cause all of a sudden he shouted, "Oh for God's sake - what is it?" and I nearly had a heart attack.

"It's me sir. Can I come in? I want to talk to you. I'm sorry, I mean I _need _to talk to you. Or no, I would _like_ to - "

I really was that flustered, (though I don't suppose you'll have much trouble believing that!) and even though I couldn't see him, I knew he was rolling his eyes, just from the way he said, "Come in Carter."

I came in a bit carefully, trying to figure out what kind of mood he was in. "Thanks Colonel."

"Something up?" He didn't sound like he was in the mood to talk, but he wasn't snapping at me either. It could be that he was trying to be patient with me because he felt bad about the other day.

"No sir, I just want…uh, would like…"

"You need something Carter?"

Well yeah, I did - I needed everybody to start talking again. But I don't think that's what he meant. I think he was talking about chemicals for a bomb or a new toothbrush or something.

"No sir, nothing like that. I just think we all…should…you know, talk -" He glared at me and I really started sweating then. What was I doing? He's a _Colonel_ for Pete's sake! But I was here now, so I took a deep breath and tried again, "I think you need to talk to everyone about the night Lebeau got sick."

He stood up. "Are you telling me my duty, Sergeant?" he asked.

Don't get me wrong, I was still scared, but I was getting pretty ticked off now too. _Somebody_ had to do something about what was happening, and he had to see that it couldn't be one of us, so I crossed my arms over my chest, jutted out my chin and looked him in the eye. "Yeah, I am!" I told him. He wasn't exactly quaking in his boots, that's for sure, but he was startled enough that he looked like he'd listen - for a minute or so anyway.

"I know you feel bad about what happened," I kept going, "and I don't think it was your fault, but things stink around here and it's your job to smooth it out!"

I couldn't believe I was talking to the Colonel like this, but what was even harder to understand was why he was taking it. I fully expected that any minute he'd turn me around and shove me out the door with a boot to my rear. But he just seemed tired. "Why? Tell me why it always have to fall to me."

He wasn't making any sense at all. "Because you're the _Colonel!_"was all I could say.

"And so what - I'm always supposed to solve everything?"

"Yes!"

I think that surprised him. Then he started to shake his head sadly, as if I didn't understand what he was saying; either that or I was so blind that he couldn't even stay mad at me. "Carter, it's not that simple."

"Yeah sir, it is. You're the one in charge." He looked like he was going to say something, but I went on, "You may not like it - I can't even imagine how hard it must be sometimes - but that's how it is. You're the Colonel and it's your job to sort this out - that's what they made you a Colonel for."

Quick as a flash, his tone got sharper. "I don't need you to point out the facts of life to me - "

"Really?" I interrupted, not even thinking about how much trouble I could get into. "Cause everybody around here is doing nothing but fight with each other and you're sitting in here in your quarters and ignoring it!"

"Don't be belligerent with me, Carter. It doesn't suit you."

"I'm not trying…" I started pacing around, waving my hands. I was so frustrated - I needed him to understand! Everybody was upset about stuff that didn't matter and all that was important was what happened that night. "Don't you get it?" I asked him. "Don't you realize what we went through?"

I sat down on his chair and suddenly I couldn't look at him. "Don't you get it?" I asked him again. "We all just sat there and watched him! He's our friend and we didn't do anything for him. And all we had to do was open the door. Just open the door and get a guard. That's it. That's all we had to do, but we didn't. We just sat around watched him get sicker and sicker because we were too dumb to find the answer that could have saved the both of you. I kept trying and trying to think of something to suggest to Kinch, but I couldn't. That whole night was so…so…"

I looked up and it was like I was pleading for him to understand. "Colonel… even with a dog dying in the street, you'd try to get him to a vet if you could. But we didn't do anything! It was _Lebeau_, and we didn't do _anything!_"

He put his hand on my shoulder. Then he asked quietly, "And so you blame me for that?"

"Aw sir, no! That's not what I'm trying to say!" I shrugged his hand off, still frustrated. Jeez, I must have said it all wrong! "We don't blame you - not really. We're blaming ourselves. We're all feeling so guilty we can barely stand it, and now we're taking it out on you and on each other. But you see, that's why you've got to do something! I know it's only been a couple of days, but the way it is right now, we're not a team. And how are we supposed to beat the Germans if we're not all together like we were? How are we even supposed to survive being here when things are like this?"

He sat down on his bottom bunk and looked at me. "I don't know…" he started to say, but then he trailed off. For a minute I thought he was going to confide in me, but I'll never be the one he'll reveal his secrets to. If he's ever going to tell anybody anything, it'll probably be Kinch. Or maybe - just maybe - Newkirk or Lebeau, but not me.

"Don't worry Carter," was all he said. "I'll sort it out."

"Okay Colonel." I got up to leave.

"By the way Sergeant," he said as I was half way out the door, "if you ever think to be that presumptuous with me again, I'll have every stripe on your sleeve."

"Yes sir." I knew he was serious, but I was so relieved that it was hard to keep myself from grinning, and so I high-tailed it out of there before he could change his mind.

After that, I sat on my bunk for a little while. I had worked myself up so much to get the guts to talk to the Colonel, that I was feeling a bit giddy now that it was all over. That's where I was when Newkirk came in. I didn't say anything to him, but I was watching him as he poured himself a cup of coffee.

He must have caught me looking at him. "What do you want, Carter?" he asked.

"I want to apologize."

He looked at me. "Really?"

"Yeah. I'm sorry I called you a coward, Newkirk. I didn't mean it. And you were right - I didn't want think about what the Colonel did. Cause if we couldn't count on him…"

He came over and sat down on the bench facing me. "I'm sorry too mate. And I've been thinking about it - the gov'nor didn't do anything that bad. It just worked out that way. He should have thought about how we'd worry, but who here wouldn't grab the chance to play with a pretty fraulein, if the opportunity came up?" He shrugged. "I was probably only jealous, like Baker said."

"No you weren't Newkirk," I told him. "You were upset because you were worried about Lebeau. You do that. Worry about people I mean. Like when you told General Barton about what Colonel Hogan really does around here, cause it bothered you that he thought badly of the Colonel. Or when you didn't want to make that propaganda broadcast on the radio cause you thought it'd hurt Berlin Betty's family if the Germans found out it was really a secret message. Or even that time you got transferred for escaping and the Colonel told you to get away and take the escape route to London, but you went back and got that girl cause you were worried the Germans would hurt her. I mean, sure, okay, she turned out to be Gestapo, but - " I was rattling all this off when I looked up to see Newkirk staring at me. (2) "What is it?" I asked. I swear, half the time I can never figure out why the guys are always giving me these funny looks!

He shook his head, but he was smiling at the same time. "Nothing," he said, "It's nothing. It's just that I never thought - " Then he slapped me on the knee. "Doesn't matter anyway mate. But you know, I wasn't right either. Tearing down the gov'nor for something any of us would've done, and bringing everyone down…well, that was hardly doing anything useful, was it now? When life goes arse-about-face, any old sod can start moaning."

"I guess."

"But as my Mum used to say: It's no use crying over spilt milk; it only makes it salty for the cat," he said. "And everything is going to be alright now. So come on, barracks four and seven are having a football match - a proper one. Let's go and watch."

"Sure. Say, is that how that saying goes? I've never heard that part about the cat before."

"Mum must've made it up," he said as we went outside. (Turns out he was lying Dad.) "And by the way mate, about that Nazi bird, I only went after her because she was right gorgeous, so don't get any daft ideas that I'll be coming after you if you get in trouble."

I nodded and said, "Unh huh," but I knew he was only teasing. He went cause he felt bad she might get into trouble, no matter _what_ he wants the rest of us to believe.

Anyway, we didn't get to watch the soccer game. (That's what Newkirk means when he says "proper" football.) We were only out there five minutes when Olsen came out and said that the Colonel had asked Kinch to come to his office.

"You think this is about the other night, or just camp business?" Newkirk asked him.

"It's about the other night," I said and they both looked at me as if wondering how I knew for sure.

"Let's go listen in," Newkirk said.

"Newkirk, that's _spying!_"

"And we're spies Carter! So it's all right for _us_ to do it. We're just doing what comes natural-like."

"Not with each other!"

"Look, the gov'nor always says that our survival depends on us finding out all the information we can get our hands on, right? To be aware of everything going on around us?"

"Well…"

"And so we have to know what's going on with the team, don't we?"

"I suppose." I still wasn't sure - I figured there had to be some argument I should be making.

"So c'mon. Besides, think of this as practice. Elementary eavesdropping." He grinned, and started pulling me back to the hut by yanking on my sleeve.

I tell you, I just don't know _what_ Mom is going to say when she finds out about all this.

Anyway, that's how all three of us ended up standing outside the Colonel's door and listening in. I got a bit discouraged - I'd never heard the Colonel sound so awkward before. Not that it would have been awkward by anybody else's standards, but you know what I mean. The first thing he had to do was convince Kinch to sit down.

"Are you ordering me to stay?" Kinch asked and he was pretty blunt about it.

"No," the Colonel said first, then he sighed. "On second thought, strike that. I'd prefer you to stay, but I'll make it an order if I have to. We've got some things to sort out."

"Fine."

We heard some moving around as they pulled out the chairs, then we heard the Colonel clear his throat. "Look Kinch, I'm going to talk to all the guys, but I thought that I should give you an apology first," he said. "I'm very sorry for what I did. It was a grave error in judgement and very selfish. I certainly never meant for this to happen, but it was foolish of me not to see that trouble coming up while I was out was a real possibility. I guess this situation could have come up at any time, but maybe going outside is a risk I should only take if it's absolutely necessary."

The Colonel really sounded like he was sorry; I found myself wishing that I could see Kinch's face so I'd know how he was taking it. He kept going, "I always planned on apologizing to Lebeau, but I'm sorry that I thought that he was the only one I owed one to. I'm sorry for what I made all of you go through, but especially for leaving you with the decision you had to make Kinch."

He paused for a second before he went on, "As a Colonel, asking forgiveness from an enlisted man is not encouraged. Whatever questioning of your orders they've done, the men under you are expected to abide by your authority, and it is not your place to acknowledge whatever mistakes you've made in front of them. I didn't know how to get around this, but in the end it's simple: as one man to another, James," the Colonel said, making a special point of using Kinch's first name, "I'm asking you to forgive me."

My stomach got all tight when I didn't hear Kinch say anything. I could picture the Colonel standing there, holding his hand out, and Kinch just looking at it.

"Colonel…" Kinch finally started to say, but then seemed to have trouble going on. "Colonel," he began again, and Newkirk, Olsen and I held our breaths. "That was a hell of decision you forced me to make! It wasn't just about 'Do I get help for Lebeau or not?' I was choosing between the two of you. I thought I might literally be choosing which one of you was going to die that night. I could keep you safe, but only if I risked letting Lebeau's appendix burst. I could help Lebeau, but then Hochstettor would have found you missing and that would have been that."

"I know Kinch - "

"But I don't even think that that was the worst part. I think the worst part of it is that I _did_ make the decision."

"I don't understand."

"I _did _choose. It's funny - I thought that if I hadn't made a decision, that if I'd screwed up by being paralyzed by choice or second guessing myself, that that's what would have been harder to live with. But that night I looked at two of my friends and choose one over the other, and now _that's_ what I can't seem to accept. Do you see what I'm saying? Can you understand why it's hard to forgive you?"

"Trust me Kinch, I understand. But if it makes you feel better, you didn't choose _me_ over Lebeau. You choose the camp, the operation, not me."

"But - "

"No. No buts Kinch. Look, do you remember when Townsend had Carter, and he ran off into the woods? Do you have any idea how much I wanted to go and look for him? But I had to think of the rest of you." (3)

"But we were willing to look for him. We _wanted_ to take the risk."

"Really?" I asked Newkirk outside the door, but he just shot an elbow into my ribs to tell me to shut up.

"I know you did, but that didn't matter," the Colonel was saying. "You weren't in charge. It's my job to think of _all_ of you, and to think of your welfare even when you don't. I had to make a decision I hated, for the good of the whole camp, even if it made you hate me. And that's just what you did. As hard as it was, you choose the safety of everyone in camp over one friend."

"I'm not entirely sure that's true sir."

"What do you mean?"

"Part of me wonders if I choose you over Lebeau because I weighed the contributions you both make, and I considered you more important. Or even that maybe I choose you because you were a better friend." I never thought I'd hear Kinch sound so ashamed, Dad.

"Don't beat yourself up about it Kinch," the Colonel tried to comfort him. "When I decided we should come back instead of looking for Carter…well, I can't say I never questioned my motivations. I'll admit there have been times when I've wondered whether I was thinking less about the entire camp and more about the safety of the rest of you who were with me that night. But that's only natural. I knew you better, I'd worked with you more - there was naturally going to be a part of me that wondered how selfish my reasons really were. About whether I was being noble or just thinking that losing one friend was a better consolation than losing them all. However, I know that deep down, the men here at camp were part of the decision I made. And I know that whatever you might think, they were for you too."

Kinch was unsure. "I don't know…"

"I do, Sergeant. There's no doubt in my mind on that score."

"What about Lebeau? How do you think he will he feel about all of this? I know at first he begged me not to get help until you came back, but how can he not resent the fact that I didn't choose to help him? How can a guy not be mad, when he's lying there in pain, and he sees his friends just standing around, seemingly ignoring him, and not doing a thing to help? It's one thing to be noble and say you'll make that kind of sacrifice, but it's another to realize that your own friends are more than willing to take you up on it."

"I don't know Kinch. I guess we'll deal with that when he comes back. But he's a good man. In the end, he'll forgive us."

"Yeah, he is, and yeah, he'll probably forgive us. But I still don't know how I'm going to face him again after doing what I did."

"You did what you had to. And facing men again, after you've nearly gotten them killed, is yet another burden of command. After every mission, after every stunt or scheme, you've got to look them in the eye and say, "I need you to do it again tomorrow." "

"How do you do it, sir?"

"I don't know. I think somehow I just end up doing it because I have to," the Colonel explained. Then he said, "Cheer up Kinch, Lebeau is going to be fine. Besides, I'm the one he's going to be mad at once he finds out what his noble sacrifice was really for."

Kinch laughed a little at that. "Maybe not sir - Lebeau might be the one man who'd understand risking it all for a night with a woman!"

"Only if he's the one doing the risking. I'd better hope for my sake that there's some pretty nurses waiting on him hand and foot at the hospital!" Then the Colonel's tone changed. "So Kinch, do I have your forgiveness?"

"Yeah, but just…just tell me why you did it, sir."

"I wish I had a real reason Kinch. Did you ever have a time when you felt things had been weighing down on your shoulders for a little too long, and then you somehow lucked out and found something that made you forget it for a few hours? I don't know Kinch…I'm ashamed to say it now, but I stayed out because I was just feeling too good and it was too hard to deny myself. I kept telling myself, "Just a half hour more," and then the night simply got away from me. I don't know how in the world I can ever make it up to the rest of you, but that's all it was."

"Yeah, okay," Kinch said softly. "I understand."

"Can you forgive me though?"

"Well, we all have our moments of weakness. It would be wrong not to forgive you yours, especially since you've never really had one when it comes to us before. So yes, I can forgive you."

"Thank you, Kinch."

And so well, that's the story Dad. Everything looks like it's going to be okay. Newkirk, Olsen and I stopped listening after that, even though Kinch and the Colonel talked quite a bit longer. The important part was that Kinch forgave him. Afterwards, the Colonel apologized to the whole barracks and, even though things are still a little awkward because we're all feeling a bit embarrassed about how badly we acted, nobody seems to be mad anymore. Which is good, because that way when Lebeau gets back, we can concentrate on making things up to him. Not to mention, life in this camp is a little easier to bear, since we can all talk to each other now. But you know, I'm still glad I wrote you this letter. It's been almost as good as talking to you again.

----

_Carter paused in his writing. It had been good, but now that it was done, he found himself with the same terrible ache in his heart that he thought he'd left behind him all those years ago._

----

But it's made me sad too Dad, because I know that no matter what happens, I'll never get to hear what you really think about it all.

I miss you.

Your loving son,

Andrew

* * *

(1) "Diamonds in the Rough" and "The Gypsy"

(2) "The General Swap", "Is There A Traitor in the House?" and "Sticky Wicket Newkirk"

(3) See my first story, "Emanations of Hate"


End file.
